


Ransom Demands

by Thwipp (Thwipp_Thwipp)



Series: Aggressive Negotiations [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Parenting, Ben Solo Might Be Just a Little Smitten, Ben Solo is a Senator, Chewbacca is There, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Han Solo is Trying his Best, Hate Sex, Hux has it Really Really Bad but Denies It, Hux is Super Jealous, Hux is a douchebag to Finn, Leia Organa is Trying her Best, Leia and Han Literally Try to Murder Hux, Love/Hate, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Politics, Power Play, Senator Ben Solo, Sex Toys, Sexual Manipulation, The Epic Continuation to Aggressive Negotiations, the Ultimate Finn and Kylo team up of your dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 22:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13176924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thwipp_Thwipp/pseuds/Thwipp
Summary: Part II of Aggressive NegotiationsHux just wants his goddamned ships back, but Senator Ben Organa-Solo refuses to budge, proving to be even more stubborn than expected. Hux will just have to turn to the boy’s family instead – surely, they will negotiate! Only, he hadn’t expected the real-life wrath of the notorious General Leia Organa, or that of her husband, renowned war-hero and legendary smuggler Han Solo.TL;DR : Hux thinks about an Early Retirement, Marriage, and Funeral Costs (not necessarily in that order).





	Ransom Demands

**Author's Note:**

> nearly two years later, here is Part II of Aggressive Negotiations (I recommend you go read that first - even if this is basically PWP)!
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

Hux still can’t quite believe his luck.

Perhaps there _was_ some celestial being looking over the entire galaxy, or perhaps Supreme Leader Snoke wasn’t criminally insane and his precious ‘Force’ was actually real. Maybe Hux had pleased some petty god of a random backwater planet. Whatever the reason, he was now certain that something or someone was smiling down upon him.

How else could he have captured Senator Ben Organa, and consequently brought the Resistance to its knees, practically ready to kiss his feet?

Well, not quite. Whilst he had managed to capture General Organa’s son, he hadn’t gotten around to actually negotiating for his release yet. But that was about to change. Here he was, in the board room onboard _The Finalizer_ , with Captain Phasma on the comms, ready to patch through to the Resistance at any moment.

He had rather hoped that Ben Organa would have backed down and just told him where his goddamn ships were. But alas, Organa was as stubborn as a rancor’s grip on its prey. Hux could only hope that the boy’s mother would be more lenient – especially when the wellbeing of her own flesh and blood was at stake.

“Alright, Captain, patch us through,” Hux ordered, steeling himself for what would surely be a tough negotiation.

The holoprojector was switched on and the sound of static reverberated through the room, crackling and hissing. Suddenly, a figure appeared, a stout woman with dark hair and fierce eyes. Even through the holo-connection, Hux would know those eyes anywhere – Ben Organa possessed them too.

General Organa did not look pleased, to say the least.

_“What is the meaning of this, General Hux? I doubt this is a social call, so cut to the chase.”_

“Very well,” Hux frowned, not liking being spoken down to so plainly; “You have something of mine. I want it back.”

General Organa feigned surprise, _“I don’t know what you mean.”_

Growing impatient, Hux viciously pulled on the chain in his hand, sending the person attached sprawling to the floor at his feet. The collared man coughed violently, unable to clutch at his throat due to the cuffs restraining his arms behind his back.

A horrified gasp sounded through the projector, and a triumphant smile spread across Hux’s lips. Ah, so she did recognise the young man at Hux’s feet then. Wonderful.

Senator Ben Organa looked so very good in a chain and collar, after all. Who would have guessed?

 _“How dare you!”_ General Organa barked, eyes black with fury; “ _Release my son at once!”_

“Give me my ships, General, and I won’t harm a hair on baby Ben’s head,” Hux said, carding a hand gently through the Senator’s thick head of hair. The Senator’s hair felt so soft beneath his fingertips, and his scalp so cool, that he found it difficult to stop. Not that he wanted to. He had intended this to be a power play, but if he should enjoy himself along the way then who was to deny him that?

Not surprisingly, General Organa looked ready to cut his throat. From beneath his gag, Ben Organa looked ready to do the same.

“Sadly, your son hasn’t been very cooperative, General. I’d rather hoped that you would be more amicable. I’d hate for anything _unsavoury_ to happen…”

With that, Hux held up a small remote in his gloved hand and smoothly pressed the button.

Almost instantly, the Senator doubled over with a muffled shout, face practically kissing his knees. He shook violently, sweat beading on his skin, and his screams barely comprehensible from beneath his gag.

Suddenly, the lights immediately overhead shattered, sending a shower of glass and sparks raining down upon them. In no time at all, however, the back-up lights turned on, flooding the room with light again. Hux blinked, unable to figure out whether he was feeling more aroused or irritated at the property damage. He felt breathless, whatever it was.

 _“Stop!”_ General Organa said loudly, her face contorted in pain; _“Just stop. You have my attention – just don’t hurt my son,”_

Hux smiled coolly, “Very well, General. How about an exchange? My ships – with all crew and cargo accounted for – in exchange for your son.”

General Organa’s lip curled, and her eyes flashed dangerously. Hux knew that behind the scene there were no doubt over fifty other Resistance crew arguing and berating each other over his offer. Politically, the deal was suicide. No one in their right mind would give up a full three-ship’s worth of intel for _one_ young man. Only, Hux was negotiating with that young man’s mother which meant all cards were officially off the table. He would have his ships back in no time at all.

Huh, sentiment. The downfall of even the most stubborn of creatures.

_“May I ask what ships you are referring to?”_

“Really, General? Are we still going to do this?” Hux said, finger hovering over the button on the remote in full view of the holoprojector. From the floor, Ben Organa gave out a timely whimper. Hux could have kissed him.

 _“I will think about your offer. Give me five minutes.”_ General Organa said, eyes flickering to her son once before bluntly disconnecting the call, leaving only the sound of static reverberating off the walls.

There was a beat of silence.

Hux’s eyes widened, “What?”

Ben Organa looked equally confused, eyes wide, mouthing incomprehensibly beneath his gag.

What the hell had just happened? He was certain he’d had the General eating out of his hand. Surely the sight of her son – tied up and helpless - had tugged at her heart strings? Surely, she was prepping all her finest ships to retrieve him, safe and sound?

“…I’m counting the minutes, sir,” Phasma said, her voice cutting through the air like a knife; “But we’re set to reconnect as soon as you wish.”

“Can you believe that? _Her own son_ ,” Hux breathed, mildly impressed. “…what a stone-cold bitch.”

From the floor, Ben Organa flailed angrily. Hux was stunned by his continued loyalty. Even if his family was shitty, the Senator didn’t seem to waver. If General Organa was a force to be reckoned with, Hux surely didn’t want to get into a fight with her son.

Still, Hux wanted to quell that fire. So, he hit the remote again, and soon enough the Senator was writhing against the floor, screams muted by his gag. Hux tried not to wince as the thick, durasteel walls began to bow inwards with a series of ear-splitting groans.

God, Ben Organa was a force of nature.

“Did you hear that, Benny? Your own mother – your own flesh and blood – is negotiating whether to give you up for a bit of _intel_. You’re being weighed against three ship’s worth of information. How does that feel?” Hux crowed, finally taking his thumb off the remote.

Ben Organa sat up, limbs shaking and his face white as a sheet. He did not look pleased. At all. Whether that anger was directed at Hux himself, or at his mother, Hux wasn’t certain. Either way, he had the senator at an emotional disadvantage and it felt damned good.

“General, the Resistance is hailing us,” Phasma said, finally tearing Hux’s gaze from the senator.

“Put them through, Captain,” Hux said, adjusting his collar slightly.

There was a flash of static and the form of General Leia Organa appeared once again. She looked as if she were on the verge of violating all the known laws of the universe and reaching through the holoprojector to throttle Hux with her bare hands. Good. If she was angry, that meant she was more likely to make mistakes.

 _“The Resistance is willing to negotiate, General,”_ Leia Organa said, her mouth set like steel.

A flash of arousal overcame Hux as he remembered that he had seen that exact expression before on the face of her son when he had fucked him into the console back on Starkiller Base. Oh, this was just deliciously messed up.

“Perfect,” Hux said, “Now, on to business…”

* * *

If Hux had been a happier man, there might have been what most people would refer to as a ‘skip’ in his step. As it was, he just looked thoroughly constipated. Or at least that’s what anyone on _The Finalizer_ would have told you if you asked.

The truth of the matter was that he was overjoyed, over the moon, and thoroughly blissed out. Here he was, the youngest man to ever make the rank of General in the First Order, and he had the Resistance eating out of his hand, and Ben Organa practically kissing his feet. In less than twenty-four hours, Hux was going to have his ships back and finally be rid of his ‘Force’ problem. Albeit, temporarily. Ben Organa was lovely of course, but the continued property damage to _The Finalizer_ could not be ignored.

All in all, he was in a good mood.

A rare happenstance which he intended to take advantage of.

One could only hope that Ben Organa was in a similar mood.

As Hux approached the senator’s cell, he noticed the stormtrooper on guard with his ear to the door and his helmet under his arm. His face was contorted, as if deeply in thought. Mind whirring, Hux immediately took note of the two things out of place on his otherwise constant-as-clockwork ship: 1) the stormtrooper should not have his helmet off; and 2) he was consorting with a prisoner and known Resistance sympathiser. Such insubordination would _not_ be tolerated.

“FN-2187!” Hux barked loudly, making the trooper stumble backwards; “Put your helmet back on at once!”

“Yes, sir, General Hux!” came the shaky reply.

It seemed with every new batch, his stormtroopers lost a little bit more spine, Hux thought sadly. Too much spine resulted in insubordination, but too little drew out cowardice. It was a pity really. There was an exact science to programming stormtroopers, and unfortunately, there was always a bad egg in the batch.

As Hux entered the cell, Organa quickly backed away from the door, a guilty expression on his face. It was entirely apparent that he’d been consorting with FN-2187. About what exactly, Hux wasn’t sure, but he intended to find out.

“What were you two doing?” Hux asked, his gloved hands curling into fists as he shut the door behind him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ben Organa said, chin high in the air. Truly, Organa was born to be a politician. He definitely had the lying skills of one. If Hux wasn’t certain of the contrary, he might have believed him.

“You look guilty,”

“Do I?”

Hux frowned, “Whatever it is, I’ll figure it out soon enough. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Surely, you’ve figured out by now that you can’t take anything from me?”

_“Really?”_

Temper flaring, Hux hit the button on the remote and watched as Ben Organa doubled over with a shout, his body wracked by shuddering waves. Licking his lips, Hux held out for ten seconds, before finally pressing the remote again. Ben Organa stopped screaming.

However, to Hux’s excitement, he hadn’t stopped shaking.

“Do you really think that pathetic little remote will get you what you want?” Organa snarled, sitting up from where he had collapsed onto the floor.

“Why not? It got your mother to listen to me,”

“God, you’re a sick fuck,”

Hux shrugged. He’d been called worse. You didn’t get to the rank of General without dirtying your hands, after all. Still, he didn’t appreciate such vulgarity, and with a smug grin, he pressed the remote once again.

The durasteel walls seemed to bow with a series of unearthly groans as Ben Organa fell once again onto the floor, clutching at his knees and wailing in distress. Hux did not move to turn it off, and Organa was left screaming into one hand as the other fisted itself into his hair, as if to stop himself from punching the floor.

Hux watched on in sick fascination, as a thin sheen of sweat appeared on Organa’s brow, and his lips formed pretty shapes around his incomprehensible muttering.

“Get it out of me!” Organa yelled, _“Get it out!”_

Hux crouched down beside him, reaching out to run his hand over Organa’s damp forehead and smooth his black hair away from his face, caressing him. Organa’s entire form shook beneath his fingers, his body entirely stimulated. Unable to resist, Hux let his fingers wander, trailing across his chest and the ripped fabric of his once-brilliant black-velvet robes, and further down, to dance across the swell of his ass.

Still, he did not touch the remote.

“Sorry?”

“Get it out, you sick son of a bitch!” Organa snapped, actually punching the floor this time and leaving a great big dent in the metal.

The toy was a simple thing, really. Not particularly fantastic in any way. It certainly did not spark the imagination like the other toys in the shop Hux had visited. There had been shackles, collars, plugs, beads, all in fantastic shapes and sizes designed for even the most peculiar of species. When Hux had chosen this toy, the seller had given him a disgusted look, muttering something about humans being ‘boring’. Of course, the seller had not pictured Senator Ben Organa brought to his knees. Now that was anything but _boring_.

Eager for more delicious reaction, Hux ripped it out.

_“Kriffing hell!”_

“Shush, shush,” Hux crooned, setting the toy down on the floor; “There we go. Done.”

Organa looked wrecked, with his face cherry-red and fine beads of sweat rolling down his skin. The tattered ruins of his robes did little to hide his arousal. However, he still looked bitter about the whole affair, judging by the poisonous look he was aiming in Hux’s direction.

“Don’t look me at like that. You were enjoying it,”

“Clearly not as much as you’d like to think,”

Hux shook his head at that, sitting beside the Senator and moving to clasp his face in his hands. Up close, Hux could better admire his bright, glassy eyes, his full lips, and the moles and freckles scattered like constellations on his pale face. He truly was beautiful.

“When will you cut the crap?” Hux asked, tracing his thumb over the Senator’s lip; “…we could have some fun while we wait… it’ll take a day or so of hyperspace travel before we reach our destination,”

Organa didn’t move away from his grip, which told Hux everything he needed to know. Instead, he stared back at him, still glaring, but with a hesitant glint in his eye. There was some semblance of resistance, but there was clearly desire too. It leaves him breathless - the idea that Organa might want _him_ too.

“Why would you do that in front of my _mother?_ ” Organa mumbled instead, turning away from Hux’s touch.

“I was good to you, wasn’t I? I could be good again…” Hux continued quietly, his thumb probing at Organa’s mouth curiously. His mouth felt so soft, and his warm breath seemed to call to him. He wants to kiss him again, so very badly.

“This won’t work, you know?” Organa said finally, letting out short, shuddering breaths. He still hadn’t pulled away. Overhead, the cell-lights flickered intermittently, as if matching the irregular beat of the Senator’s heart.

“I’ll make it work,”

“That’s just arrogant-”

“I have my ways,” Hux said, before cutting him off with a kiss.

To his surprise, Organa practically melted into his embrace. His mouth was soft and pliant, moving eagerly against Hux’s own. Their tongues tangled easily and Hux could feel himself purring. It was in stark contrast to their first kiss, back in the Starkiller control room. Hux wasn’t sure which one he preferred more – both had their merits.

Slowly, he cupped the back of Organa’s neck, drawing him in even closer. His black curly hair tickled gently at his fingers, and Hux wanted nothing more than to comb his hands through the soft strands. So, he did just that, combing his fingers through Organa’s hair and back to his neck.

After everything, their arguments, and heated trysts, this sort of interaction was overwhelmingly soft. It felt almost unbearable, and each gentle touch, almost painful. Hux had never experienced anything like it before. He wanted so dearly to keep Ben chained to him forever, never letting him out of his sight.

He wanted to be the only one to see his fierce gaze, to touch him, to hold him close.

_Too bad he would be leaving soon._

The thought shot through him, like a blaster bolt to the chest. What the hell was he doing? Ben Organa was the son of his political enemies, with the blood of traitors running through his veins. He was nothing more than a political pawn, perhaps pretty to look at, but nothing more.

In that instant, all semblance of tenderness on Hux’s end slipped away.

Instead, he nipped at Organa’s bottom lip, tearing the skin and tasting copper against his tongue. He loved Organa’s lips best whilst swollen and bloody red, totally kiss-worn. They were his most attractive feature – plush, and perfect for kissing and cock-sucking, and all the rest. Oh, and then there’s the taste of blood on the tip of his tongue which always sends a thrill shooting down his spine, just like it was now, and he can’t help but groan into the gory kiss.

Eventually, they pull apart to catch their breaths. Their cheeks are ruddy, and their bodies seem to thrum.

Organa looked at him, eyes half-lidded, “Are you trying to interrogate me again?”

“No,” Hux said, “I wasn’t very successful at that, now was I? Seducing you, however…”

With that, he moved back in, mouth biting at Organa’s neck and his hands grabbing at his ass. Organa tilted his neck back, eager for attention, his hands tugging ceaselessly at Hux’s hair. Hux decides that he likes this bossy side of the Senator. It felt good to give in to his wants and needs, and tend to his every whim. He can’t help but put such a pretty bauble on a pedestal where he belongs.

Hux continued his path down Organa’s neck, placing kisses all the way to his collarbone and then some. He tore at the fabric of Organa’s tunic, which was now an obstacle. Organa shifted and pulled the tunic off before throwing it blindly across the room. The move is all kinds of arousing. They were both eager, it seemed.

Even so, Hux grunted in surprise as Organa laid back, pulling Hux with him and pressing their mouths together, a bold move that is made all the better as he wraps his long legs around Hux’s waist. They grind against each other, and the metal of the walls seems to groan and shift. Hux pulls back to look at Organa, eyebrow raised.

“…do try to keep the property damage to a minimum, won’t you?”

Almost immediately, one of the lights exploded overhead, showering the floor with hot sparks.

“Fine. Have it your way.” Hux snapped, flipping the Senator over onto his stomach and kissing the back of his neck. “I did come in here with the intention of removing that toy and putting something else in its place…”

“Oh, _really_ —" Organa said, yelping as Hux bit his shoulder blade. As if on cue, yet another lightbulb shattered overhead, much to Hux’s irritation.

 _“Fucking seriously?”_ Hux snarled into his neck, still mauling at his skin as he fumbled to find the packet of lube he had stashed away in his pocket. He had intended to celebrate his victory – and it seemed Organa was very much a willing volunteer, at least judging from the way he kept pushing his ass back against Hux’s cock.

“I can’t help it,” Organa said, his voice muffled by Hux’s insistence grip that had his face kissing the floor. As if to punctuate his point, one of the broken light fixtures spat out a pathetic dribble of sparks.

“I’ve noticed!” Hux said, ripping open the lube packet with a bit too much force.

Removing one of his gloves, Hux quickly spilled the lube onto his bare fingers, warming it in his grip. He was cruel, but not that cruel that he would shove cold fingers up Ben Organa’s ass. Or at least, Hux liked his cock exactly where it was and if he shoved cold fingers up Organa’s ass, he had the feeling his cock would get snapped off in retribution.

With his one hand pushed between Organa’s shoulder blades, keeping him pinned like an insect, Hux moved his other hand between Organa’s legs, tracing his way past his perineum and circling his heat teasingly. Toying with Organa all day had been fun, and Hux was in no ways finished.

“As usual, you’re disappointingly _slow-_ ” Organa said, only to shut up entirely as Hux pushed a solitary finger into him.

“What was that?” Hux purred, pushing past the tight rings of muscle and stretching open Organa to receive him.

“You’re slow,” Organa said again, struggling beneath Hux’s grip and yet still pushing back into his touch; “Just how fragile do you think I am?”

Hux snarled and pushed in three fingers at once, making Organa yelp in surprise. Almost instantly, he cursed his temper and prayed that Organa would be quick in ripping him apart. If he was to die, at least make it quick, right?

To his surprise, no such retribution came, and instead Organa melted beneath him, and pushed himself back onto Hux’s fingers in slow, steady movements. Hux leant forwards, his chest flush to Organa’s back, only to hear gentle fluttering moans dripping from Organa’s throat like honey.  For a long while, Hux let himself drown in those sweet sounds, and of feeling every stuttering breath and shudder of Organa’s body against his own. Here he was, with Ben Organa coming apart just on his fingers.

“Is that better?” Hux asked, half-sarcastic.

Organa turned his head, only to capture Hux in a rapturous kiss, sucking on his tongue and teeth whilst a free hand tangled in Hux’s hair. Groaning into the kiss, Hux continued to work his fingers inside Organa, opening him up, though his job had been made much easier by the toy he had worked inside Organa only hours beforehand.

“Faster, please,” Organa murmured against his lips, pulling on Hux’s lip with his teeth.

Dutifully, Hux sped up, spreading his fingers and searching for that sweet spot that would have Ben Organa seeing stars. Still, he couldn’t hold back his biting commentary: “So impatient, Senator,”

“If you don’t hurry up and fuck me, I’m going to go outside and see if that guard of yours is more amicable,” Organa snapped.

It was just a silly threat of course, but Hux did not like it one bit. So, he shut up and removed his fingers from that tight heat, before eagerly pouring more lube onto his hand and slicking himself up. It was difficult to concentrate with his hands sliding around his own cock, but one stern look from Organa had him back on course.

With one steady movement, he pushed into that tight heat, stifling a gasp into Organa’s shoulder blade. He felt as if he’d be winded, but the pleasure roiling around his lower body assured him that it was a good sort of breathlessness. Organa was so tight, but so pleasantly hot around him, sucking him in with each shudder of his own body.

He took a moment to adjust and to just revel. He was the one fucking Organa. Not any of those Resistance pilots, nor any of Organa’s fancy friends or allies in the Senate. No, it was Hux. He was the only one who got to see this, to see the sweat beading like pearls around Organa’s brow, and the flush of his neck and ass when Hux toyed with him, or the way his eyes shone when Hux angled himself just right and drove home.

Organa gave an impatient sound beneath him and Hux shook his head quickly before finally fucking in and out. Still dazed, he couldn’t help but start slow. He was torn between dragging out the intimacy between them, or simply fucking and leaving. He wanted to revel in each touch of skin, in each ragged breath, of every drop of sweat.

Nevertheless, it was difficult to ignore their harsh surroundings - his knees ached something awful from the cold metal floor, and he could only imagine how it felt for Organa being pinned down on it. For not the first time, Hux ached for the softness of his bed. It was a tempting line of thought – to get up and drag Organa up a few dozen floors to Hux’s own quarters and to throw him down on his plush bed that would have happily bedded an entire squadron of stormtroopers (but for reasons of space, they slept quite contentedly in the barracks instead).

Oh, yes, in Hux’s quarters they could fuck on every flat surface available – they could break in his couch, the coffee table, the bar, and even his favourite armchair. Then there was the refresher… and oh, a very wet, very naked Ben Organa was a sight that Hux intended to behold.

The only thing stopping him from doing just that was that he could see no way to drag Organa out of the cell and into the elevator without being seen. And that would not be good. For so, so many reasons (least of all being the humiliation).

If he were to _keep_ Ben Organa, then why, they could fuck whenever they pleased. They could fuck in Hux’s quarters, or hell, they could fuck on the _bridge_ with Organa pressed up against the transparisteel windows in full view of the galaxy, without a care for who happened to be looking. And that was a beautiful thought.

“You… certainly have an overactive imagination,” Organa said between ragged breaths.

Hux blinked down at him, his vivid thoughts crashing down around him.

Oh, that was right. He was fucking him right now. Brilliant.

“But you’re not opposed to the idea, are you?” Hux said, kissing the back of his neck softly.

“Are you joking?” Organa laughed, breath hitching as Hux moved inside him; “That would never happen,”

Hux frowned, “Why not?”

“Oh, let me see… one, my mother would kill you; two, your Supreme Leader would kill you; and three, what makes you think I would let you keep me?”

“We’re fucking. Right at this very moment.”

“So, what? I’m a prisoner – I’m improvising.”

Hux’s lip curled. So that’s how it was going to be then. _Fine._ He could work with that.

Snarling, he pushed Organa back into the floor, preventing him from saying anything more. Leave it to Ben Organa to ruin the moment with his snappish tongue. So, he picked up a faster pace, fucking into Organa with abandon, muffling his shouts into his freckled back. Right on cue, his knees protested, with shocks of pain shooting up his thighs every time he drove them into the unforgiving floor. Still, he refused to let up.

He chased his pleasure blindly, one hand splayed on the floor whilst the other caressed the gentle swell of Organa’s chest. His skin was smooth and plush beneath his fingertips, save for the occasional raised freckle, which Hux would make a mental category of. His chest was just another feature that he loved dearly, and would have worshipped, kissed, and fucked even, if given due time.

Hmm… perhaps another day.

Beneath him, Organa was relatively quiet, any noises smothered by the floor, and the gentle sounds stemming from his throat all but swallowed up by Hux’s attentive mouth. He was far from unaffected, however. With every thrust of Hux’s hips, Organa would meet him eagerly, leaning back into his touch with far too much enjoyment to say otherwise. More telling, were his hands, which were crumpling the durasteel floor like paper under his tight grip as he held on for the ride. Hux winced as the floor bowed and groaned beneath Organa’s hands, but let it go.

Instead, he let his fingers drift down, over Organa’s belly, and to tangle in soft black curls and wrap around the velvety softness of his cock. Organa let out a stuttering moan, much louder than before, and Hux sped up his movements, taking pleasure in the man beneath him, whilst wrenching out the pleasure from him with his own hand.

Had Organa dreamt of this, of Hux’s touch, like Hux had of him? Perhaps he had, late at night in his Hosnian Prime apartments, or his family home on Chandrila. Or maybe it was, just as he said, simple “improvisation”, an act to keep his captor happy. How better to avoid personal injury than by sucking up to your kidnapper?

The mere thought left an irksome weight in Hux’s stomach, so he forced himself once again from his wandering thoughts, and instead trailed a line of wet kisses down Organa’s spine, praying that each one sent a similar thrill shooting through him like it did Hux.

As if hearing him, Organa moaned his name, only to stifle his mouth with his hand, as if to prevent such an utterance from ever leaving his lips again. Still, Hux had heard him.

“I’ve got you, Ben,” Hux whispered into his neck, a sense of triumph wrapped in pleasure rolling through him. He had heard Organa in his moment of weakness and he would make sure he never forgot it either. Far be it from Hux to ever let such a thing go.

Organa shook his head stubbornly, but Hux didn’t care.

Rather, he picked up his pace, keeping himself balanced with one hand on the floor, and the other wrapped around Organa’s torso, groping blindly at his stomach and chest, mesmerised by the softness of his skin and the slick mess of pre-come and sweat dripping from his body. It felt like the strangest of hugs, being pressed so closely together, and basking in each other’s warmth, only made all the better by the heightened intimacy of sex.

So, Hux revelled, at least until stars finally, inevitably, blinded his vision, and he buried his head against Organa’s back, brought low by the white-hot pleasure running deep in his groin and belly as he came. His cock sputtered, spilling inside Organa and making Hux’s body thrum.

At the same time, Organa gave a low keening moan and the room was plunged into darkness as the rest of the light fixtures finally died a pathetic death. One, two, three seconds later, one emergency light sprung to life, miserably trying to keep the room alight.

So much for keeping the property damage to a minimum.

Still, Hux was too far gone to give a damn. He collapsed on top of Organa with a tired _oof_ , far too fucked out to steady himself. To his delight, Organa was warm, and even with all their limbs tangled together awkwardly, he was a pleasant cushion to land on. Greater still, was the post-orgasmic shudders that Hux’s fingers elicited from Organa’s body as he reverently traced his hands over his smooth skin. It was in these quieter moments, that Hux finally had free reign to do what he wanted.

Trailing his fingers across the back of Organa’s neck, Hux made a mental catalogue of all the freckles there, decorating his pale neck like a string of black pearls. And that was a lovely thought indeed – Organa with a string of Kaminoan black pearls laid heavy on his collarbones, showing off the desire (and heavy wallet) of his lover for all to see.

Or for only Hux to see. He hadn’t quite decided. The idea of Organa splayed out in his quarters, with nothing but that imaginary string of pearls weighing down his neck was certainly tempting.  Then again just presenting the necklace to Organa would be a sight to see – they would be back on the icy plains of Starkiller, with snowflakes decorating Organa’s hair like diamonds, with the cold wind dusting his cheeks red – and wearing a grateful, loving smile, only for Hux to see, only for Hux to enjoy.

“Get off,” Organa snapped, drawing Hux out of his self-indulgent thoughts like draining water from a bath; “You’re too heavy,”

Any honey-coated thoughts and fancies that Hux may or may not have been entertaining in his head, had now rotted away, leaving only a withering sense of annoyance in their wake. He had rather hoped to take a minute, a breather, at least, before getting back to work, but it seemed that Organa was not going to tolerate his presence much longer.

And Hux was Totally Fine with that. Yes, indeed.

So, he got up off Organa, resisting the urge to groan as his limp cock slipped out, dribbling come on Organa’s thighs. He dressed in silence, ignoring the poisonous glance Organa was sending his way, and desperately trying to ignore the buzzing high still thrumming through his veins and colouring his world in a rose-tint. It was just sex. Really Fucking Good Sex, but that didn’t matter. Clearly, this was never going to work out, and obviously he had never really entertained the idea anyway. It was JUST SEX. That was all. Just a good old fuck with the hottest politician in the Senate.

Nothing more.

“It’s been a pleasure, really,” Hux said coldly before closing the door on him.

It was dangerous to have set aside so much time for the senator, when Hux had such a busy schedule. Why couldn’t he have just kept it in his goddamn pants? Or just have settled for a lousy blowjob? Now he was behind schedule – he had to prepare for negotiations.

Oh, and possibly hit the refresher.

“FN-2187,” Hux barked, making the stormtrooper jump about a foot in the air; “See that the Senator gets cleaned up before negotiations start – oh, and get those lights fixed!”

With that, he started down the hallway and the long march back up to the bridge of _The Finalizer_. As he turned to go, however, he failed to notice the stormtrooper once again turning to face the door of the cell, leaning down to answer the furtive whispers of the prisoner inside.

* * *

Kreit-Lan was a small heavily forested moon on the border of New Republic and neutral space, containing little more than the ruins of an old military base, as well as an adjoining hangar. As such, it was a popular point of negotiations between warring parties such as the Resistance and the First Order. For Hux, it was the perfect place to reassure the Resistance of his good intentions and thus get his ships back.

With _The Finalizer_ docked planet side, Hux, Captain Phasma, Ben Organa, and a cadre of stormtroopers boarded an armed shuttle and made their way to the moon. After flying over nothing but thick forest, they finally reached the base and landed in the abandoned hangar bay, only to see the Resistance party already there, standing in a neat group on the other side of the hangar with their own transport nearby.

Hux sneered, unable to disguise his contempt for the rebels. He wouldn’t be in this mess if the Resistance didn’t insist on interrupting his plans. He could only hope that these negotiations would go as smoothly as possible.

“Captain, make sure your troops are at the ready – we must not let down our guard, even for an instance,” Hux said, surveying the troops carefully. They were some of Phasma’s best. Hopefully, if all went well, they wouldn’t be in need of their skills today.

“FN-2187,” Hux barked, making the stormtrooper jump; “Uncuff the prisoner.”

“Yes, sir, General!”

With his hands free, Organa rubbed at his wrists, looking particularly put-out. He had cleaned up nicely, in the end, despite his tattered robes and the smattering of bruises painted all over his body. FN-2187 _was_ good for something then.

Hux almost didn’t want to say goodbye.

With the troops already filing out of the transport with Phasma in the lead, they finally found themselves alone again.

“Well, this is farewell, Senator,” Hux said, throwing his great-coat over Organa’s shoulders, and patting out invisible creases and straightening the collar. It was to be a particularly provocative move, as if to remind General Organa of _who_ exactly was in charge of the situation.

Organa stared back at him, void of emotion, “That’s right,”

A surge of anger ran through Hux, to his own annoyance. It was pathetic. He should know better. Of course, Ben Organa was still playing with him! They were enemies on all accounts – divided by ideology, war, and in every other way that counted. Had he really expected anything else?

“Don’t fuck this up,” Hux hissed into his ear, rage bubbling over; “You keep your mouth shut and you’ll be home with mommy and daddy in no time.”

When he pulled back, however, the look on Organa’s face was so violent that Hux nearly tripped backwards. Luckily, he manages to catch himself. Barely.

 _“Walk,”_ he said instead, shoving the Senator out of the transport with a tad too much force.

Organa stumbled over his long robes, only to be caught by FN-2187 at the last minute. He looked up in surprise, before smiling at him gratefully, eyes shining. It was difficult to tell from the helmet, but Hux suspected that FN-2187 was smiling back with a look just as sickening. He swore.

Meanwhile, the stormtroopers had assembled themselves in neat rows, just as they had been taught to. Captain Phasma looked on, her gaze no doubt steely beneath her heavy chrome helmet. It certainly put Hux in slightly better mood, to see his troopers work like clockwork, precise and perfect in every action they took. Despite inevitable mistakes over the years, it warmed Hux’s heart to see such successful results from his stormtrooper program.

Speaking of mistakes…

“FN-2187!” Hux barked, successfully tearing the stormtrooper’s attention from the senator.

“Yes, sir, General?”

“Listen up. You are going to walk the Senator over to his mother nice and slow, and then you are going to come straight back, do you understand?” Hux ordered, already removing the greatcoat from Organa’s shoulders and passing it back over to another stormtrooper for safe-keeping. Judging by the furious look that General Organa was giving him, she had gotten his message. These negotiations were going to operate under _his_ terms.

FN-2187 nodded tightly before politely offering his arm out to Organa. It wasn’t what Hux would have done, he would have just grabbed the young man by his arm and dragged him across the hangar, but it seemed this stormtrooper was particularly good at getting on Hux’s nerves.

If watching Ben Organa be dragged onto the bridge of Starkiller Base had been downright erotic, well, watching him leave just left a strange emptiness in Hux’s gut. The view was still lovely (Ben Organa was particularly well-endowed with a gorgeous ass and ridiculously long legs), but it still hurt.

Such was the slow march of one idiotic stormtrooper and his prisoner.

As instructed, FN-2187 halted halfway across the hangar, with Ben Organa still on his arm. A distance where Ben was in tantalisingly short reach of both the First Order and the Resistance, and where Hux could shoot him if things went awry. Nothing personal, just standard protocol (well, it might have been a little personal).

“Now, give me my ships, General,” Hux said, “And I will return your precious Ben to you,”

“Very well,” General Organa replied, making a motion with her hand to the young Resistance woman next to her.

“Two Resistance ships are escorting our ships to _The Finalizer_ , General,” Phasma said, with her hand pressed to the comm-system on her helmet.

“Good,” Hux said, fighting down the mynocks in his belly. Negotiations were always hair-raising. “When you’re ready, Captain, please confirm the transfer.”

Phasma’s hand flew back up to her helmet, “What’s our status, Lieutenant?”

There was a long beat of silence, where Phasma stood nodding as the officer on the other end relayed all information. For Hux, the mynocks had begun brawling. It didn’t help that all the Resistance crew were glaring at him across the hangar.

Finally, Phasma gave Hux a quick nod, “Confirmed,”

Hux breathed a sigh of relief. That difficult part was over. Now to hand over Ben Organa and get off this godforsaken moon. He made a cutting motion with his hand. Dutifully, FN-2187 escorted Organa across the bay towards his mother.

“I thank you for your cooperation, General Organa,” Hux called across the hangar, eager to pour salt on the wounds of the now humiliated Resistance members. They had embarrassed Hux by stealing his ships, so he would return the favour. It was only fair. “I do look forward to any dealings we may have in the future,”

“I’m sure you will,” General Leia said, with an unforgiving fire in her eyes.

They stared off at each other, with the promise of violence in each other’s eyes, before finally, _finally_ , FN-2187 handed Ben Organa off to his mother.

In a whirlwind of expensive fabric and what was no doubt a glorious perfume, Leia Organa swept her son up in her arms, hugging him tightly to her slight frame. The hug went on a for nearly a minute, as mother and son were reunited. When they finally pulled away, Leia Organa looked her son up and down with horror in her eyes.

Hux couldn’t blame her. Ben Organa was covered in bruises and hickeys, and his clothing was all-but ruined, barely protecting his modesty. Nevertheless, he was clean, thanks to FN-2187, so hopefully General Organa wouldn’t make too much of a fuss.

She turned to glare at Hux, the beginning of what was no doubt an impressive verbal tirade on the tip of her tongue, when suddenly, Leia Organa’s attention was drawn by a young Resistance comms-officer standing by her side.

Hux had no time to debate the situation before likewise, Phasma turned to him, “Unidentified craft entering the atmosphere, sir. It appears to be a light-weight freighter – a piece of junk really. Should we shoot it down?”

Hux turned to General Organa, “Is the craft yours?”

General Organa looked equally confused, “No.”

“Let’s wait for it to land, Captain. We’ll soon sort this out.”

It was a terse wait. Hux stared down General Organa, hoping for any slip, any betrayal in her face that would tell him what the hell was going on. To his disappointment, she stared right on back with what appeared to be the exact same line of thought. Meanwhile, stormtroopers and Resistance fighters alike had begun muttering amongst themselves.

Hell, why couldn’t anything go as planned? It was as if the universe was spitting in his general direction, eager to watch him trip.

Sure enough, a ship appeared on the horizon a few minutes later, the sheer weight of it moving through the air uprooting trees from the ground and sending them flying backwards.

As the ship landed in the hangar bay, Hux noted that it was a simple Corellian light-freighter, and, just as Phasma had said, a total hunk of junk to boot. It would hardly present a threat. He was shocked the ship hadn’t fallen apart just from the landing – what in fresh hell was keeping it together? An why the hell was it here on Kreit-Lan? Was this some Resistance ploy to take First Order hostages? Or perhaps to assassinate him?

More than that, he noticed that the Resistance fighters and General Organa had gone suspiciously quiet. The youngest fighters seemed to be whispering excitedly amongst themselves, whilst the oldest amongst them looked ashen-faced. The most telling reaction was from the General herself, who looked ready to burst a blood-vessel. 

He hadn’t missed the fact that the freighter had landed next to the Resistance shuttle. Whoever it was, they didn’t appear to be a friend to the First Order. So, what was going on?

“Orders, sir?” Phasma asked.

“It could be a trap – stay on guard,” Hux murmured, fingers toying with the blaster at his hip.

The boarding ramp descended with a great _hiss_ , accompanied by great plumes of white smoke. Hux was not impressed. The ship was total trash. Just… ughhh.

Before the ramp had even touched the ground, two figures, one human and one wookiee, came sprinting down the ramp, armed to the nines, one with a blaster and the other, with a wookiee bowcaster. They matched their ship insofar as they were covered in dust and grime, and looked as if they’d lived long past their respective expiry dates.

“Han?”

General Leia looked incredulous, with what was either a smile or the beginning of a verbal tirade playing at her lips. Perhaps it was both.

“Leia!” the man, presumably the infamous Han Solo said raggedly; “Is-is Ben okay?”

Leia rolled her eyes, “As usual, you have impeccable timing. Ben is fine.”

Hearing his name, Ben poked his head out from behind Leia, before giving the wookiee a shy wave. The wookiee gave a pleased roar before taking the young man in his arms and swinging him around like a tie-fighter mid-crash.

“No- look, that’s not-” Han said, running a hand down his face in exasperation.

The wookiee howled angrily, putting down Ben long enough to start waving his bowcaster in the air, making everyone in the room flinch. Whatever it was he was trying to communicate was not good. A shiver ran down Hux’s spine. Just what were these two doing here?

“What?” Leia looked taken aback; “You two can’t just come barging in here while I’m in the middle of negotiations. You could have endangered all of us!”

“Just listen!” Han said, red-faced and panting wildly, looking disturbingly similar to a particularly fat bantha in heat Hux had seen on the Holo-Net once. Too similar, in fact. Solo looked equally as frazzled and unattractive as the woolly beast.

Frantically, the man searched his beaten leather jacket before pulling out a holo-device with a triumphant shout. He stuck his filthy hand out, practically shoving the device in General Organa’s face.

“Look at what that slimy piece of moof-milking shit did to our son!” he snapped, pointing at Hux furiously before turning on the device.

A HoloRecording began to play, with the volume turned right up. Two figures appeared, one in a very unique First Order general uniform, and the other in a set of elegant robes. Hux squinted oddly at the figures, trying to decipher what was happening when suddenly the HoloGeneral backed the other HoloFigure against a surface and began –

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, _no._

The recording continued to loop obscenely, loud moans and swearing echoing in the hangar bay. Hux’s blood ran cold as he watched the HoloFigure of himself violently fuck Ben Organa on Starkiller Base. Only, with zero context, Hux knew it looked far, far worse than that.

With an aching slowness, everyone in the room seemed to turn on Hux and he felt himself sinking under the collective weight of their gazes. Even his own Stormtroopers seem confused from beneath their bland helmets.

The cherry on the fetid cake unveiled itself as that absolute _bastard_ Ben Organa clutched at his mother’s shoulder, looking positively distraught at the recording. God, he was wailing as if Hux had forced him into it. It was in that moment, with a creeping sense of dread, that Hux realised that Organa was still wearing his ruined robes from the Starkiller Base, and the fabric that had been torn asunder in their lovemaking now looked as if it had been forcefully ripped apart by some wild animal: that animal being _Hux_.

If Hux had thought the confused silence from his own troops was bad, he found himself, once again, overwhelmed at how very scary General Organa appeared in person.

Her lips are tightly pressed together, so much so that Hux thought they might disappear completely into her face. What really scared him, however, was the very tangible waves of unadulterated fury radiating off her. Despite her size, she looked ready to cross the length of the hangar bay and snap Hux in half with her bare hands.

“YOU VIOLATED MY SON?!”

Despite himself, Hux felt himself shrinking into the floor. No ships were worth this.

“Let me kill him, Leia!” Han yelled, and beside him, the wookiee roared angrily, as if in agreeance.

With breakneck speed - a First Order standard - Phasma aimed her gun directly at the smuggler. A series of loud _cliks_ indicate her troops had quickly followed suit. From behind his own mortification, Hux just managed to muster a sense of pride for his army.

“Stand down,” Phasma barked at Solo, gun levelled at his chest, “We are in the middle of negotiations with General Organa. _You_ have no business here and are trespassing,”

Unfortunately, General Organa looked furious enough to heed her husband’s words, Hux noted as his fingers curled around the butt of his own gun. Things were going south – fast; and the atmosphere was getting colder with each passing second.

Ben Organa let out a maliciously well-timed whimper, clutching at his bruised throat and angling his body in such a way that he could better show off the flowerbed of bruises on his legs from under his tattered leggings. All the Resistance fighters took notice, and seemed to tighten their grips on their blasters, with any thoughts of diplomacy now far away in their minds. If Hux wasn’t the victim of such a well-played card, he might have applauded.

“That sleemo piece of crap just made it my business!” Han growled; “Ben is my son too!”

Hux had had enough.

“Now you all listen to me! This-this is all one big _misunder-_ ” he started, only to be quite suddenly cut off.

Of course, since achieving the rank of general, Hux was not often ‘cut-off’ or interrupted or disrespected. And if he had any say in the matter, he would have shot the culprit dead. However, in this instance, he had _zero_ say in the matter.

Being shot did that to you.

Instead of exacting revenge, Hux felt only the excruciating pain of having his eardrums explode in his head, and found himself, quite literally, flying through the air. He vaguely registered the fact that a bow-caster has fired, before all his thoughts stopped in their tracks, and he finally landed on the floor with a sickening _crunch_ several yards away from the mayhem.

Almost instantaneously, both sides of the room exploded with gunfire, a testament to the ferocity of Phasma’s troops and the anger of the Resistance.

Meanwhile, unable to appreciate the pure chaos around him, Hux clawed at the ground, struggling to breathe from the force of his landing. With his mouth opening and closing dumbly like a Kaminoan fish-frog, he gulped in the air frantically. His world swam violently, and his vision was smoke and blaring lights. Every part of his body was on fire, making it all that more difficult to ground himself.

How pathetic! He didn’t want to go out like this – brought low by Resistance scum with all his dirty laundry aired for both sides to see. He’d be the laughing stock of the First Order for years to come. This could not – would not stand!

When the ringing in his ears died down, however, Hux was thrown from his wallowing with the realisation that he has not been shot at all.

He looked up.

There, across the room, was Ben Organa, standing with his arm-outstretched in Hux’s direction, looking equally shocked.

Hux stared at him, mouth agog, before remembering himself and quickly ducking back behind some crates with his blaster already in hand. What in the _fresh fucking hell?_ Ben Organa had tossed him across the room like a wet napkin and saved his life! But why? After going to all that trouble to humiliate him, why would he rescue him, an enemy?

Hux's speculation was cut short by another blaster bolt striking against the crate he was hiding against, making the box shudder.

Anyway.

Back to business.

“What’s happening, Captain?” Hux yelled over the gunfire.

“The Resistance scum are trying to push us back!” came the angry reply, muffled by more blaster shots; “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” Hux said loudly, ducking as a particularly mean shot came fizzling over his shoulder, very nearly taking out his left ear. “Forget diplomacy - _let’s send these dogs back to hell!”_

With ash in his mouth, and his limbs still protesting every movement, Hux peaked out over the crates, firing wildly at the Resistance fighters. One was thrown back – shot in the head. The other clutched at an injured shoulder and ducked before Hux could correct his aim.

He crouched back behind the crates, before the fighters could pay it forward. One dead, one injured. Not bad, but he knew he could do better. Ahhh, the problem with being so highly ranked meant that he hardly ever saw actual fighting. Which was a shame because he _loved_ it.

Making a mental note to hit the gymnasium on _The Finalizer_ more frequently, Hux peaked out above the crates once again.

He counted quickly – two fighters, and a _stormtrooper_?

Hux crouched down again, shaking his head. Well, that happy-landing courtesy of Ben Organa had not been kind to him. Not a surprise, but goddamn.

He popped his head up again only for his jaw to drop.

No, that was _definitely_ a stormtrooper.

FN-2187, to be exact. And he was firing on the First Order. That piece of _shit._

Hux roared, standing up and firing on the traitor, eager to put a hole through his head.

Only the bolt never made it.

Instead it stood, perfectly still in the air, humming with raw energy, but never progressing. Frozen. And standing with his arm outstretched was Ben Organa, putting all his concentration into keeping the bolt from hitting FN-2187.

Hux’s jaw dropped in amazement, only to be quickly replaced with anger.

The puzzle pieces had finally fallen in place. It all made sense now.

That piece of shit, FN-2187, had conspired with the enemy and helped him escape. _FN-2187_ had helped _Ben Organa_ escape and had likely planted that goddamn recording in the hands of Han Solo. That traitorous cur had humiliated Hux in front of the First Order _and_ the Resistance and had consorted with Ben Organa right under his nose.

Now, only one thing was certain. Hux was going to throttle them both until their heads turned purple. Either that or string them up by their toes and shoot them out of a goddamn airlock. Or perhaps a lazy blaster bolt? No, far too kind.

Whatever it was, it was going to be _painful._

Slowly, the shots still ringing out changed direction, all headed for FN-2187, the traitor.

Eyes wide, Ben Organa flung the frozen bolt up at the ceiling, before halting the next shot. And the next. And the next. Soon, there was a flurry of shots, all frozen momentarily before Ben Organa let them fly back up at the hangar ceiling one by one, his concentration being thrown all over the room in an effort to save his new friend.

Hux watched, transfixed.

Then a thought struck him.

Organa couldn’t keep this up. He couldn’t block all those shots. He would miss eventually, and it would either shoot through FN-2187, or it would hit the young man himself.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” Hux yelled, surprising himself as the words spilled from his mouth; “HOLD YOUR FIRE, goddamnit!”

Reluctantly, all Hux’s troops stopped firing and ducked behind the crates, awaiting their next orders. The Resistance fighters halted for a moment too, shocked. Likewise, from across the room, Organa had flung the final blaster bolt up into the ceiling, and was now staring at Hux in amazement.

It didn’t last long however.

“Get to the shuttle!” General Organa yelled, pushing her son away with ungodly strength (and Hux was so grateful he hadn’t got into a fistfight with her). Almost immediately, Ben Organa was engulfed in a crowd of Resistance fighters, all piling into the little ship, whilst Hux watched on, unable to put a stop to it all.

Phasma stood up, gun raised as FN-2187 ran in after them.

“What orders, Sir?” she yelled, awaiting permission, her fingers shaking with rage on the trigger.

“ _Let them go_!” Hux said hoarsely, waving his hand tiredly; “Let them go.”

The doors of the Resistance shuttle slammed shut with a hiss, and it took off out of the hangar bay at top speed, followed closely by the _Millennium Falcon_. Hux watched on helplessly behind the crates as the ships exited the atmosphere and as the Lieutenant from onboard _The Finalizer_ voiced his confusion through the comms as the Resistance ships left the system completely.

Well, that had been the worst goddamn diplomatic effort of Hux’s entire life. Even more so than that one meeting with a Toydarian minister (whom Hux had shot dead for interrupting him). Whilst he’d managed to execute a few rebels (which was always a mood-lifter), he’d also been thoroughly humiliated in front of everyone, and for some reason (which he did not want to explore. At. All), he’d let Ben Organa go. So, all in all, the day had been a disaster.

Of course, had gotten his ships back which had been the entire point.

But, why did it feel like a loss?

He was thrown from his wallowing when Phasma turned on him, anger practically tangible, “What now, Sir?”

“This isn’t over,” Hux said simply, as a young stormtrooper helped him find his footing; “We’ll get our own back.”

Even from behind her helmet, Phasma looked confused.

Hux smirked at her, holding up a tubular metal piece; “… after all, Captain, the Senator will want his _lightsaber_ back.”

.

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Hux: pfttttt sentiment what a joke  
> Also Hux: WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME.  
> ...  
> Ben Organa-Solo: Hux burned my crops, razed my village and delivered a plague onto my house.  
> Also Ben Organa-Solo: *tripping over and a dozen photos of Hux spilling out of his robes* f-fuck these aren't mine - w-wait, just listeN


End file.
